A Calormene Folly
by Valiant Me
Summary: From the hot barren lands that are her new dwelling place, Queen Susan utters a cry of regret.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: As previously established I'm not a dead british man so I can't possibly own these characters.**

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><p>There were times when I thought Calormen the brightest place, most of the time though I just though it was dull. Dull and hot. Tashbaan stood next to the desert and it did not escape from the scorching sun and pestering sand no matter how much its people tried to pretend that life was all about fresh wine and parties at the riverside.<p>

Yes was the word that sealed my fate. I stayed in Tashbaan from then on, even after my brother and the rest of the narnian delegation went back to Cair Paravel. Oh to remember the fresh, white, marble hallways of Cair Paravel. They have great marble hallways in the palaces of the Tisroc as well, but they are only a passing illusion. One look out the window will remind you of the hot barren lands you're in. The hot barren lands to which I willingly chained myself.

Peter had not been pleased to hear of my engagement. He had come down to Tashbaan himself, leaving the northern raids to the hands of lesser generals, to try and talk me out of it. Of course by then it was too late, later even than Edmund's ultimatum.

"_Have you decided what to do about this dark-faced lover of yours, Prince Rabadash?"_

He'd told me to be prudent and called our mother's memory to aid him. It had not worked. I was much too enamored by Tashbaan's splendor and Rabadash's sickly sweet words. His face. The perfectly chiseled dark features under the serious brow, the eyes I once thought would light up under tender treatment. Love would change that severe expression and I would have the privilege of being the only one to know loving touch and loving gaze from him.

I doubt anyone has ever known anything near of loving from him. Not his concubines if he's as rough with them as he is with me, not his father if the rumors are true, certainly not his advisors whom he kicks and scorns quite freely. My husband loves power and not much else. A weak man he is.

-Don't do this Susan. - Peter had begged me earnestly in the plain English he used when he forgot to be royal. I had turned upon him my most haughty look.

-Dear me, what do you mean by this brother? - I twirled the hem of my heavily ornamented _zalmai , _having embraced Calormene dress. I was a little embarrassed despite myself.

-I mean to stop my sister from making what I believe to be a mistake. - Peter replied frankly although hurt wheedled its way to his expression. We'd always been close him and I, always taking the big decisions when the little ones could not yet be relied upon. Running a country was not child's business but we did our best.

-How is this a mistake, Peter? Do you expect Lucy and me to stay maidens all our lives?

-No! Just… I did not expect you to give yourself so freely. - Peter's eyes were as deep and impassible as ever. My nostrils flared I expect.

-Freely? Oh, one would think you knew nothing of these things Peter! WE-MUST-MAKE-ALLIANCES. Narnia is too small a country and you know it! As a matter of fact it's high time you and Edmund started worrying about taking your own brides!

Peter had started laughing bitterly.

-Have you forgotten Susan?

-Forgotten what? - I had asked frostily.

-That we are _not _medieval people, that we once cared for things other than alliances and that we once knew women ought not to be traded like chattel for the benefit of nations. I would've never traded Lucy or you for anything, not even for a blood connection to the most powerful country in these lands. Which ironically is Calormen.

-Nobody's trading me Peter. I'll make whatever decision I think best and unlike you I appreciate the fact that as monarchs of a small country our first and foremost concern should be its protection. Have you thought about what having the Calormen army on our side will do to our trade routes?

-Make a battlefield out what ought not to be one. Fine, sister, do as you see fit. Only remember I did not seek or wish it.

-Don't you at least bless it?- I asked feeling a little scared, Peter looked as if ready to walk out of the room and out of my life.

They had all been there for the wedding ceremony, which lasted forty nights according to the ancient customs. My dress was made of the finest silk from Calavar and the pearls that adorned my hair were brought all the way from Felimath. Perhaps all this made me prettier, I would not know. I only felt sticky and sweaty, my clothes were heavy on my back and thick over my body and the oils and perfumes smeared on my skin had a sweet pungent smell I could not bear. I tried to breathe.

Inexplicably, I thought of the young Archenlandish knight who had once tried to court me as Rabadash and I joined hands under the sight of Tash. I had enjoyed the year in his company quite, but then again I was just seventeen and he was just a knight.

I had looked into my husband's eyes after we were formally bonded and expected to see tenderness if not love. There was feeling in those beautiful black eyes, but it was not tender.

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><p><strong>This is a work in progress. Even if you hated it, I would still love to know what you think!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

One of the things I regretted about my married life was the loss of my title. It seems silly I know, but I was a Queen in Narnia. Even being a Princess in a far more superior empire seemed hollow next to that. Of course then I remembered I was really an English school-girl and that was that.

I was with child two or three months after I was married. My husband had never been more pleased with me, I think. He petted me and kissed me and even forgot to strike me for not eating some of the daintiest Calormene dishes, sometimes. I was happy too.

Loneliness had been a constant feature of my married life. Rabadash was not interested in conversation. He was not interested in much from me to be honest, apart from my sitting prettily in the great Hall of the house of the Tisroc and my sharing his bed. A child was sure to improve my conditions.

Oh, I had friends of a sort. Plenty of them. I never got bored enough, for someone interesting to talk to was always at hand. Viziers and Tarkheenas, generals and scholars. Education is taken much more seriously in Calormen than it ever was in Narnia, where our people are hardly concerned about anything other than keeping their lands and crops. The library of scrolls kept by the ancient curator of the house of the Tisroc was to be sure the best record of knowledge in the world that held Narnia. I liked to read the old Terebenthian comedies and did so when my husband was away, for he detested the image of a woman reading and never hesitated to demonstrate this with a sharp blow across my face.

My consolation from the wretchedness Rabadash brought me was that he was away for months at a time. The Tisroc, though I'd heard he cursed the laws of inheritance often, relied heavily on him as heir to the throne. Rabadash directed most of the important campaigns and was sent to the overseas colonies twice a year. When he left I let my hair down in the green North's fashion and read as many plays and speeches as I liked. I ate what I wanted and I drank wine and mead. I liked Tashbaan with him away.

The city was the closest I ever got to contemporary England. It was a true model of architectonic superiority. I never compared it to the poorly constructed streets and buildings that surrounded Cair Paravel for I felt my beloved citadel would suffer from the comparison. Yet it lacked in bright faces what it tried to make up in high-ceilinged rooms and flawless mosaics.

I didn't start giving parties until after I lost our child. Prince Rabadash was away at the time. The boy (it had been a boy) came legs first and his eyes never got to see daylight. I think in England something could have been done to save my son. But not even the best Calormene men of medicine could do it here. Here he never lived and he nearly took me to Aslan with him.

I remember nearly nothing from that frightful day. There were midwives running around shrieking for water and towels and whatnot; there was Healer Jarreh shouting instructions; there was my own intelligible screaming. There was pain and there was blood. That is all I remember.

Death was probably meant to take me then, but she didn't. She was merciful. Prince Rabadash wasn't. He bellowed insults at me as if his son's death had been by fault. I tried not to lose my patience but I couldn't help yelling back.

-Enough! - I shrieked in my most royal tone. - I will not be spoken thus any longer.

Rabadash sneered at me.

-I am one of Aslan's four sovereigns, Queen and sister to the High King. - I continued with a trembling voice. I tried to remember some of the things my grandmother, the suffragist, loved to say about women's rights. But memories of England were always faded at best.

-Your _sovereignty_ means even less here than the name of your lion demon. - Rabadash said with cold eyes and a gloating smile. I felt powerless, I'd seen him cower in front of Edmund when he proved to be the better swordsman at a tournament and yet I could not prevent the blow that was to come. I was no more powerful than the silk settee I felt back upon when he hit me.

That's when I first gave a party while my husband was away. I enjoyed ordering servants to carry in spices, fluff pillows and hang silks and linens from the walls and ceilings. I enjoyed supervising the cooking of great feasts in the kitchens. I learned I could enjoy the people who attended my parties. Tarkans and Tarkheenas, generals, captains and viziers. Interesting people who delighted me with their merrymaking. I could sing and dance to my heart's content at my parties, and I did.

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><p><strong>Again, even if you hated this I would love to know what you thought about it<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

Word soon got out that Susan of Narnia meant to find delight in her husband's absence. This brought about inconveniences. Scores of young men thought themselves entitled to aspire to a night of my company. They thought I wished it. But I did not. I was never unfaithful to my husband.

It might be wrong to admit that I did not refuse the attentions of men for Rabadash's sake. I did not do it out of any feeling of loyalty or love. So I told myself. In reality I was much too afraid of what the Tisroc's heir would do if he found out I'd spent the night in another man's bed. His blows I did stand, but I was not sure whether I could stomach whatever else he had in store for me.

Besides, I could not help but remember how my maidenhood had, thankfully, not been lost to him. My Archenlandish knight had got it. Was it possible that because of it, I was married to him first and forever? In any case it was better to think that I was staying faithful to _him_ and not to my ever regretted Calormene folly.

_How did it end this way? Don't leave me; love me, just a little bit longer._

Oh, how I wanted Narnia's loving embrace. I missed its people and I missed its meadows. I could not get on without my siblings and Aslan's absence was something I did not bear. I had forsaken them but it felt as if they'd forsaken _me_. Was it too much to ask for a moment more of love? I did not seem to find any in these, the burning lands of Tash.

_Dearest Su,_

_I'm sorry I haven't written as often as I should have. You must think I'm a simply horrid sister. But I can't stress enough just how busy we've all been this past month. I'm sure you've heard of the skirmishes we've been having with the Galmians over Avra. I swear I have no idea why anyone thought the Lone Islands would make a good part of Narnia. All right I do know, the tribute. Cair Paravel's treasury might probably be empty without it. But my point is that the Gentle Queen's judgment and counsel has been greatly missed of late. I know this is wrong to write to a married sister but somehow I feel like you should not have left Narnia. _

_I had a revelation of sorts the other night. If Aslan meant to have four sovereigns in the throne, then it probably meant that we were all to stay spinsters and bachelors for the sake of it. You know, like Queen Elizabeth did, back in good old England (oh how I do miss it sometimes, don't you?). I've decided that, since you didn't, and, I suspect Peter and Edmund have no plans of doing either, I will. Narnia deserves my entire and undivided devotion._

_I miss you Su, we all do. Be sure and ask your fine-smelling husband leave to visit dear Narnia soon. Until then, my best wishes._

_Lucy_

My sister grew more and more passionate about her country every day, without a doubt. Of course, this thought didn't stop me from crumpling the parchment as soon as I had finished reading it. I'd never told my siblings to which extent I did lament my marriage, but I would have expected my only sister to have been a little more perceptive.

Lecturing me about my duties to my country and Aslan, of all things! Months and months after it was too late for me to do anything about it. I suddenly wished very much for Edmund to hurry and marry his Terebinthian duchess, even if she was haughty and underappreciated him. Then Lucy would have all of Narnia's "undivided devotion" and see how much she liked it.

Then I bit my lip and banished such ireful thoughts from my mind. Why would I wish my brother an unhappy marriage? My siblings had tried to counsel me against mine. I owed Edmund the same courtesy. Yet he seemed so far away, they all did.

_Dearie,_

_I'm afraid a visit to Narnia is not to be thought of at present. My husband will stay in Tashbaan this four or five months and he wishes me to be with child within that time. He wants an heir badly, I understand, for he is the only one of his brothers who has none. Yet I am certain that a royal visit from one (or two) of Narnia's sovereigns won't greatly interrupt his plans. Do come Lucy! And bring Edmund, won't you? You have no idea how badly I want to see you. I realize this is a very inelegant letter and you'll have to forgive me. Burn it after you read it if you like, but first receive the warmest regards and kisses from _

_Your sister_

-What are you doing? - Rabadash asked, entering my private chambers unannounced as I so hated him to do.

-I'm writing a letter. - I answered as sweetly as I could.

-Well put down those silly things, you ought to be getting dressed.

-Right. - I muttered, stowing pen, ink and parchment away.

My handmaids braided my hair prettily that night, I must say. This was the one night of the year when Calormene women (maidens, wives and widows alike) were allowed to go around without those ever-so-stuffy _zalmais._ They wore white flowers in their hair so they would contrast nicely with the heavy black dresses they wore. I was no exception.

The Tisroc's heir and I went out hand in hand to the grand balcony. The high street ran below us. Empty as of yet. We could hear the dull pounding of the drums out in the distance. Then slowly, quite slowly, the four hooded priests turned the corner, followed closely by the temple maidens. Only the prettiest went to the temple. After them came the entire city, a great mass of black and the specks of white that were the flowers in the heads of the women.

No sound but the slow drumming of the temple's sentries and the shrieking of the chains being dragged by the grave-faced temple virgins. Tonight was a night of mourning. Tonight, Zardeenah lost her son according to a legend of old. Tonight, Calormen grieved with her.

Tonight, I grieved for my own reasons.

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><p><strong>Since probably none of you are familiar with any former work of mine I thought I should mention that the word "zalmai" is a word I use as "Calormene" for hijab.<strong>

**Also, here I took the liberty of quoting Armin Van Buuren's lovely song "Shivers".**

**And as alway, I'm very thankful for your reviews. For the story alerts and favorites as well, sure, but I always want to know what you think.**


	4. Chapter 4

-Their royal majesties, King Edmund and Queen Lucy of Narnia. - The herald announced in his very nasal shrilly tones.

The Valiant Queen walked in with a grin on her face, undoubtedly due to constrained laughter at the herald's voice. She was as much a child as ever in many ways. She was not a child at all in many others.

My brother sported a brand new beard, and ghastly horrid it looked on him too. Edmund was not one for beards. His was a face to be clean and clear, much like his judgment aimed to be. Without a beard he reminded me so much of our father (what I could remember of him nowadays), with one he resembled a scruffy highwayman.

They bowed and curtsied before the Tisroc who bowed his head lazily at them uttering some words of grand welcome. I detested how much Calormenes quoted their poets. Oh, they had great ones to be sure, but I preferred Narnian and Archenlandish simplicity of speech. Truth can get lost so easily amidst ornate words and pretty structures.

No matter how long it's been since the First Princess of Calormen has seen her royal siblings, no matter if she once shared the title of sovereign with them, no matter how badly she wants to hold them in her arms, she must wait dutifully beside her husband and let them greet him first, apparently. For Rabadash stepped smartly on my toes as I made way towards them.

-Susan! - Lucy squealed after a short and cold interlude with the Tisroc's heir. She _had_ never liked him.

I hugged her fiercely and when Edmund came I drew him in on the hug too. All in all we made for an awfully inelegant scene. I think I even teared up a little. Shameful.

-How've you been Su, really? - Lucy asked in such a tender voice as instantly made me forget how upset her last letter had made me.

We sat in my private chambers after dinner, while Rabadash, Edmund and the Tarkhaans of the court talked and drank in the Great Hall. Lucy looked over some papers and I sew, longing for the days when the decisions I made were far more significant than which color of thread to use.

-I'm fine Lucy, I swear. Tashbaan is a startlingly beautiful city and some of the Tarkheenas here are darling friends. - I said somewhat truthfully.

-And your husband? - She said tossing back the braid that always fell upon her forehead.

-Oh, he's as fine smelling as usual if that's what you mean. - I laughed a little. - And as vile, petty and full of himself as ever, too.

Lucy's great blue eyes were full of sympathy as she took my hand and looked around the room, presumably searching to see that there were no overhearing maids.

-Oh, I don't care. Lasheen and Pamule have heard quite an earful about my husband from me. - I said with a carelessness that shocked my sister. But she shrugged and turned her eyes upon my face.

-Well Su…

-You told me so. - I said nodding, my eyes tearing up again, without my consent.

-That's not what I was going to say.

-But you did. So did Edmund. And most importantly so did Peter. How is he? I do miss him terribly.

-He's…busy I suppose. The Telmarines have suddenly decided to bring all their little fiefdoms together and set up a kingdom. Fancy that! A tremendous workload it's been for all of us, especially Peter.

Lucy sighed.

-The Narnian throne sits unbalanced. - She said with the airs of Cassandra. I forced a laugh and teased her since I didn't feel like talking about my quitting of the dear country.

-So Peter's busy. - I said after a while. - Busy and proud I suppose. He still won't answer my letters, you know.

Lucy shook her head frantically.

-Oh, Su, he's busy like I said. You mustn't start thinking…

-I have heard so few from him since I married, Lu. I know how to put two and two together.

-Peter loves you. - She said lamely.

-I don't doubt it. - I said. - But I've made the wrong decisions, chosen what's unimportant and ephemeral over what is essential and significant. In his heart, he'll never forgive me for that.

Lucy kept quiet. She put her arms around me like I used to, back in foggy England to comfort her from unremembered terrors.

-He was very sorry to hear about your child, that I do know. - She said in hushed tones. I rubbed off my tears with the back of my hand.

-Oh, that. Yes, well I'm expecting again.

-You don't say! - Lucy squealed. - Susan that's wonderful.

I had to agree and I smiled a little.

-Knock, knock. - Came Edmund's voice, after a while, as he opened the door with a cheerful face.

-Come on in Ed! - Lucy said happily. – Susan's got such fantastic news!

-Does she? - He said as he threw himself down on the settee.

-She's with child again! - My golden-haired sister cried into his ear, almost startling him right back up. I had missed rolling my eyes at her.

-Praised be Aslan! - Edmund exclaimed uncharacteristically. - Truly?

-Yes, truly. - I replied.

-Peter will be so relieved! - He cried warmly.

-What?

But of course it was silly of me not to think about it. While a child, for me, meant only love and comfort in an apparently loveless and comfortless country, it was much more than that. My child, were it a he or a she, would be from the moment it was born, heir presumptive to the throne of Narnia.

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><p><strong>I always like to know what you think of this... both the story and the style of writing.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

I vaguely remembered mother being pregnant with Lucy. Very vaguely. But still, I doubted she had ever been as wide as I was now. My seamstress could hardly make dresses and robes that fitted me anymore.

Certainly, being with child did have its perks in the house of the Tisroc. I was allowed to eat whatever I fancied and was granted more free time than ever before; perhaps because they worried that if they hung about me too much I might lose the child again. I hardly complained. The best part was that, in Calormen, it was bad luck for a husband to lie with an expecting wife. My nights were free from Rabadash for a long time.

-Should she be this fat?- My ever- so- charming husband inquired of Healer Jarreh one evening, after a blood-loss scare.- She wasn't, last time.

The Healer placed his sharp-nailed hands on either side of my stomach. He poked and rubbed enough to make me feel uncomfortable.

-Well I can't be certain. - He commented. - But she might be carrying two.

Rabadash's eyebrows shot up.

-Well, let's just hope you are able to deliver two, Healer Jarreh. For your own good.

The Healer cowered and I hated him for it. I hated any man who cringed in front of my cowardly husband.

I got a letter from Edmund as soon as I reached my private chambers. My maids helped me lie back on the settee and I pursued the contents of the rapidly scrawled note.

_Su,_

_It might please you to know that affairs have finally been settled between the Duchess Arminel and I. We're to be married next summer. Lucy's not so thrilled so you better be. _

_I trust everything is well with the pregnancy? Let us know when the boy comes and we'll be sure and send either Lucy or myself over._

_Yours ever, Edmund_

I pursed my lips. Of course I was not pleased. I'd met the Duchess once or twice and she was a snooty little minx if there ever was one. Not at all the young woman I would've had for my younger brother. I sighed. It seemed the Pevensie siblings were quite wanting when it came to making sound decisions concerning marriage.

I read the letter again and smiled sardonically. Of course Edmund and the Narnian court wanted a boy as much as my husband and Calormen. As to the latter I really didn't know why they fretted so much, after all Rabadash wasn't even Tisroc yet. As to the former I only wished the Duchess turned out to be as fertile as she was condescending, for I did not want any succession wars going on over my son. Or daughter, sorry.

_Dear Edmund,_

_I suppose I ought to say congratulations, but I won't until I'm sure you really think you will be happy with this woman. She's very pretty I don't deny, but domestic happiness does not lie entirely in pleasant faces, not even in helpful connections. I should know._

_So please Ed, really think about what you're doing. I'd rather hear that King Edmund the Just has dishonored himself by breaking off an understanding, than that he has ruined himself by taking a horrible wife._

_Until we meet, I remain your faithful sister_

_Susan_

He paid no attention to my well-meant letter, clearly. For when the spring came to Narnia, presumably bringing clear-colored blossoms to the curls and tresses of the dryads, he was still as engaged as ever. And proud of it, apparently.

My second pregnancy had a much happier ending than the first one. To be sure, the labor was as bloody and distressing as in the first one. But by the end of it, I had two red-faced children instead of a mangled little corpse.

-What kinds are they? - I asked while Pamule, my maid, freshened my brow with a wet cloth. I could scarcely make out her face.

-A boy and a girl, milady.

One of each. How wonderful. I stretched out my arms wordlessly and two little bundles were placed there.

-Let his highness know, if you will. - I ordered to the room in general while I admired the squashed up little faces. They were far from beautiful, naturally. But they were mine.

Rabadash got to see his first official offspring two days after they were born. I was made pretty for him. My body washed, oiled and perfumed; my face scrubbed and decorated.

-Your son and daughter, sire. - I said to him dutifully while he kissed my hand. He took a look at the two little things, already heavily wrapped in ornamented linens.

-Which one is the male? – Rabadash asked, and he seemed genuinely happy. I gestured for one of the nurses to bring it to him. He took the child in his arms carefully and smiled at him.

-His name is Peter. - I said without question. I tried not to blink as I felt my heavy earrings clink against my neck. My husband snorted.

-No it isn't. What can you be thinking?

-I'm thinking the nephew of the High King of Narnia will have the honor of being named after him.

Rabadash laughed outright.

-That's very amusing, my dear. But surely, you are aware that my heir cannot possibly have a barbarian's name?

-Why did you take a barbarian wife then? - I asked, losing my temper.

-I keep wondering that. - Was his highly non-consoling answer. - I think it had something to do with that bewitching face of yours.

I sighed. He told me then that I could name the girl however I pleased. I gave him a tight-lipped smile and he left the room. I sobbed a little into my small girl's dressing gown.

A letter was soon on its way to Lucy, telling her that the babies had come.

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><p><strong>As always reviews are highly appreciated!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

Two or three months after the birth of my little ones I had quite a discussion with my husband over whether or not I would be allowed to go to Narnia for Edmund's wedding.

-He is my brother! - I cried childishly.

-And you are my wife. - He snapped as he took turns around the room. I gestured the maid to open the windows. Tashbaan was scorching in the summer, as was to be expected.

-Your wife, not your slave. I'm sorry if you don't know the difference. - I said cringing inside, for I knew the consequences of my putting on queenly airs with him.

He turned to look at me with fire in the black eyes that I still found so beautiful in spite of myself. Luckily for me, he saw little Hashereth in my arms and pressed his lips instead of hitting me.

-Very well, go to Narnia. - He said through his teeth. - But I don't suppose you'll be thinking of taking the children with you.

-Of course I am. Should they not be with their mother? - I said with a haughty air, instead of thanking Aslan for my triumph of sorts and shutting my mouth.

-Out of the question. My heir remains in Calormen. - Rabadash said flatly.

As he seemed right about to lose his temper despite his efforts, I thought it best to agree. I ordered some ices and said in my sweetest tones:

-All right. Hashereth stays. Can I take Lavinie?

-Take her wherever you like. - He said. And that was that.

How to describe just how welcome the sight of the Eastern Sea and the peninsula was to me? I would've jumped off the ship had it not been highly indecorous for me to do so. And if I had not been wearing Terebenthian silk, that is.

Great Cair Paravel, nay, most beloved and yearned for Cair Paravel, sat proudly atop of the White Cliffs. I leaned against the ship's railings and sighed. Home it was. Home it had been. Home it would not stay for very long.

I was taken inside Peter's Great Hall with much more pomp and ceremony than I had expected. Although, in general, the Narnian court was just as it was before I left it. The same sentries guarded its doors; the same tapestries adorned its walls; the same faces beamed down from its marble thrones. Except one, which now looked up at the one in the middle with a tentative smile.

Peter grinned at me and I knew our worst days were behind us.

-Do you ever wonder? – I asked him, when we were alone, walking through the apple orchard I was only now seeing in its finished state. The Moles had done a good job to be sure.

-Wonder what? – He wanted to know, reaching for a particularly comely apple.

-Whatever happened in England after we left. I seem to be thinking of England a lot lately.

Peter frowned, almost as if the name of our home country were a strange one to him. I took a bite out of the apple in his hand just as I used to do when we were children and we laughed.

-I mean, did the Germans win the war? Did father make it out alive? Was our London home destroyed by those awful things that fell from the sky?

-Bombs… they were called bombs. – Peter said pensively. I nodded and without a warning Peter started laughing.

-Goodness me, how on earth did that good old chap Professor Kirke explain to himself the loss of four of his best fur coats?

-And four children. – I added unhelpfully. Peter sobered up at once and rubbed his eyes with his hand.

-You know I never _had_ wondered, before now. It seems awfully strange doesn't it? Selfish even.

I shrugged and turned my sights upon the sea. I suddenly wanted to cry without a proper reason.

-We've been here almost fifteen years, have we not? Our memories were bound to fade.

I burst out crying into Peter's shoulder. I was not in my home country certainly, but worst of it all I was not Home. Narnia was gone out of my reach forever, and I could not forget and lessen the pain like I had with England.

-What's the matter Su? – Peter asked while he wrapped an arm around me.

-Nothing. It's just… you have no idea how much I wish I had not left Narnia. Truly, Peter.

-Cheer up, Su. I'd never dare say, I told you so. "What's done is done" remember? There's no use in going over what cannot be changed.

I walked a few steps away from him.

-I wish it _could_ be changed. With all my heart.

- I don't think you mean that.

I whirled around, stupefied. The air played with my long tresses and I couldn't help feeling that I'd even missed the Narnian wind.

-That is to say… you wouldn't have your children if you had not married. Think about that. – Peter hurried to explain, after seeing the livid look on my face. I smiled a little and turned to look at the white castle where my daughter slept in the arms of her nurse.

-You are right, I suppose.

Peter walked up to me and took me by the arm.

-I dare say I always am. – He joked. – Go on; do tell me more about them. Hashereth, I think you said was the boy's name?

-It means _rock_, you know? In old Calormene.

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><p><strong>Here, quite obviously I've quoted Shakespeare. Lady Macbeth's words to be more precise.<strong>

**Same as always, even if you hated this, reviews are welcome!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'd like to thank my anonymous reviewer, **_**Aravis**_** for her honesty and for praising my style of writing. While I'm sorry the story was not to your taste, I would like to clarify that it never claimed to be anything other than AU. I'm perfectly aware of the fact that Susan did not marry Rabadash in canon (anyone who's read _The Horse and His Boy_ knows that, I think), this story explores the What if?**

**Anyway, on to the chapter, e****njoy!**

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><p>I love wedding ceremonies, there's no denying that. There are decorations to sort out and servants to order about, decisions about ices and cakes to be made and the bride's dress to fuss over. About my perfect fix of triviality, imperiousness and false joy.<p>

Even if I disliked Edmund's bride to the very curls on her forehead I would not have her joining hands with my brother in anything less than a perfectly embroidered gown. I had become silly like that. Making insignificant decisions every day had made me silly like that.

Lucy was good natured about it all. She laughed at me for being so interested, but she never _could_ see just how enticing social gatherings were. Of course, she had far more important things to do than help me, so her mocking resounded harshly in my ears. Still, if I was to be the silly trifling Queen (and how good it was to hear myself being called Queen again!), I might as well take my job seriously.

-I got a letter from my husband yesterday. - I announced to my siblings one day, after dinner.

We were gathered in our private Hall, like we used to. I would've been able to pretend nothing had changed in the last years had it not been for the aforementioned epistle in my hand. And had the Duchess Arminel not been sitting right between my sister and me.

-Oh? - Lucy said raising her sights from the long manuscript she'd been scanning, doing her best to seem interested.

-It appears he will be joining us in two weeks, for the wedding.

-How nice! - The Duchess said diplomatically. I smiled at her efforts.

-Yes, quite. Are we decided about having the ceremony in the chapel? Ed, wouldn't you prefer it if it were outdoors?

Edmund shrugged into his goblet. I engrossed my sister-in-law-to-be in a conversation about locations and put the letter away. I'd rather not think about Rabadash in Narnia.

I rode out with Edmund the next day. There were things that needed taking care of in the Lantern Waste. It was strange to have so much free time on my hands in Narnia. Now I stood behind my siblings instead of next to them, while they handled affairs of state.

The Great Western Wood is always at the height of its magnificence during summertime. That is because the dryads' kirtles turn a vibrant mesmerizing green that is mirrored in the leaves of their trees. The whole forest echoes in their chanting and it makes the hair on the back of one's neck stand up. Such thrilling alluring melodies, as they make.

I thought about the, now much craved, life I'd led before I married and I wondered whether Lucy might be right. Perhaps we weren't meant to marry, none of us. Perhaps we _were _meant to be wedded to our thrones and kingdom.

But of course the whole notion was foolish to no end, because, meant by whom? Not Aslan who gave his creatures a free will and so unfettered them from the voracious clutches of an all-supreme Fate. No, there were no things meant to be. Only good decisions and ill-advised ones.

Hiding from Mrs. Macready and the tour of house visitors in the old wardrobe of the spare room had been a good decision. Inviting Rabadash and his retinue to Cair Paravel the first time had been a very poor one. Life is nothing if not a perplexing jumble of choices

-Must you marry, Edmund? - I asked while he helped me descend from my black mare. She was a dumb horse, of course, but I was very fond of her nonetheless. She'd been a gift from my husband before we were married.

-I don't suppose I _must_. But I will.

I shook my head morosely. We walked on through the thick clump trees and into the village. Such a typical Narnian village, with the little wood houses and the great stone house of worship. The Lion's resemblance sat well in the front wall of the square construction.

-Don't be such a charlatan, Su. I know Nellie's grown on you.

I laughed disbelievingly.

-"Nellie"? - I teased him- Well, I'll concede that I have come to enjoy Duchess Arminel's company from time to time. She can be awfully sweet and engaging when she wants to.

Edmund's gloating smile told me that he thought he'd won the argument. I hurried to set him right.

-But that's just it, Ed. She's an excellent actress but…

My little brother interrupted me abruptly, saying that we had come here to work not to chat. I followed him crossly to the mead hall where we were meeting the Barons of the west.

We dropped in to see "Old Mr. Tumnus" when we had finished arguing about lands and crops with a pack of self-possessed Animals and Fauns. He was delighted to see us, as ever. Particularly me since I had not seen him since he left Tashbaan with the Narnian delegation.

-I've come across some interesting information, your majesties. - He told us as we helped ourselves to the same kind of tea, boiled eggs and sardines on toast he'd treated Lucy to, all those years ago.

-What is it Tumnus? - Edmund asked jovially.

So the middle-aged Faun told us the news of how the White Stag had once more appeared in his parts, the White Stag who would give you wishes if you caught him.

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><p><strong>The last sentences are taken from <em>The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe<em> almost word for word.**

**I still love to know what you think of this! Both positive and negative reviews are welcome :)**


	8. Chapter 8

There was a King. A King and his entourage on a green meadow. There was no telling whether he had a kind expression or not; the artist had not bothered to give his face much detail. Though improving every day, the Narnians had never been great artists. Their tapestries lacked the vibrant life of the ones boasted in Anvard.

But I reckon he had a nice plump face with rosy cheeks. All the London cabbies I've met are like that. Yet, I wonder if they were any different in the nineteenth century?

-Su? - Lucy's voice startled me. I turned around to find my little sister ogling me with mirth.

-What's so interesting about that tapestry? I've always found it to be one of the ugliest here.

I started walking out of the map room. It was always chilly there. I laughed a little in answer to Lucy's queries.

-It is, I quite agree. The colors are simply ghastly.

Lucy linked her arm through mine and we walked down the corridor with much rustling of our crisp gowns.

-But?

-I was just trying to imagine whether he ever wanted to go back to England.

Lucy laughed and her golden tresses swayed with her giggles.

-I don't suppose he did. He was some sort of craftsman there, wasn't he?

_No, he was a cab driver_ I said under my breath as she shook her head in amusement.

-I can't imagine anyone wanting to stop being a King and go back to building carriages. That's what he did, isn't it?

I looked at her and her blue eyes were in earnest. I sighed and hurried on.

-Never mind, Lucy. - I said as I pushed past her.

I couldn't stop thinking about how I was once as intent as she was, as they all were, in blissfully forgetting England and everything in it.

All the talk in Cair Paravel was about the White Stag and who would go out for the hunt. Peter was too busy for it. Edmund and Lucy were all for it. Personally, I just didn't feel like it.

Lucy kept stepping out of her mature young Queen persona to whine at us like she used to. It would've been endearing had it not been so tiresome.

-Come on Pete, there's no good reason why you shouldn't. - Edmund told the High King while we had a private luncheon in the Solar a day before the hunt.

Peter rubbed his eyes with his hand. He looked so tired lately. So very tired.

-All right then. - He said and Lucy all but cheered.- It will be nice, I suppose. It's been so long since we've all gone hunting together. The four of us.

I raised my eyebrows at him. His eyes were as impassible as ever. But they were slightly pleading.

-Well if you go I will. - I declared categorically before taking a sip of mead.

-I'll not be going. – Edmund's betrothed said after a moment of silence, though nobody had asked her.

It was a fine thing indeed, to ride in the Great Western Wood. I've said this before. I relished in the pleasant sensations. Wind in my face, messing my long hair, free from a Calormene _zalmai _for once. My brothers and sister laughing and jesting. My horse going faster than she usually did, because the Stag turned out to be speedier than anyone expected. Only the four of us remained. The courtiers had long been too exhausted to follow.

-I see it! I see it! - Lucy shrieked, pointing ahead. We'd lost sight of the creature momentarily. We all halted noisily, just in time to see the elusive animal vanish into a thicket where we could not possibly follow in our mounts.

Peter suggested dismounting and following on foot, since it was such a "noble quarry to hunt". So we tied our horses to nearby trees and went into the thick cluster of trees. I wished I had not worn such a long troublesome gown, no matter how pretty it was, as I tripped on it continuously.

The third time, as Edmund was helping me up, I saw before us an iron post. An iron post, with a lantern atop of it. We commented it, all remembering what it meant to some degree. My siblings more subconsciously than I, I think

We all proclaimed we'd take on any adventure Aslan were to send our way as we went further in the thicket, still searching for the White Stag. Memories of England became clearer and stronger the thicker we went.

I remembered my parents' faces vividly now and I could see our yard in my mind's eye perfectly. I could nearly hear Edmund's loud obnoxious voice as he teased Lucy about a squirrel and Peter's commanding voice as he told him to shut it. Laughs shared by the fireplace at Christmas, presents unwrapped before the shining eyes of my siblings and the kind ones of our parents. The fear while going down the stairs to the damp little cellar, after yet another air-raid.

-These aren't branches! - Peter commented somewhere to my right, sounding a bit muffled. I realized for the first time we'd been walking through coats.

I felt a delicious sense of foreboding as I made my way through the fur faster. I opened the wardrobe door, my heart beating loudly in my ears.

And then… Oh! Sweet deliverance. I was yanked violently out of the grown woman's worn body and into the delightfully innocent one of my twelve year old self.

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><p><strong>Two more chapters to go! Reviews are a charm, as always.<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

I made my way through the camp of the Narnian rebels, groping about in the dark. I nearly stepped on Peter's hand and Edmund's hair in my clumsiness, but I managed to find the short round form of the person I was looking for, eventually. I shook him gently.

-Doctor Cornelius? - I whispered as he started up groggily. He put on his spectacles and peered at my face.

-Your majesty? - He asked confusedly. I nodded.

-I'm sorry to wake you, but I need to talk to you. Privately.

-Of course, Queen Susan. - He said deferentially, getting up with some difficulty. We walked away from Aslan's How while the good Doctor yawned repeatedly. We settled on a flat rock.

-What is the matter, your majesty?

-The thing is…- I started to say slowly. - I wondered if you knew something of… Narnian history.

Doctor Cornelius laughed merrily.

-Why, you insult me milady. Who do you think acquainted his highness, the prince, with the lives of you and your siblings?

I blushed a little in the dark.

-Right well, I was wondering whether you could tell me about what happened after we vanished, that is to say, left?

-Vanished is more proper, your majesty, from what I've read. No trace of you to be found anywhere, except for Queen Lucy's cloak, disregarded next to the Lantern in the Waste.

-Where did you read about this?

-In the annals of King Cor of Archenland, your majesty, transcribed by the great Archenlandish historians that lived under the rule of his son the King Ram.

I nodded looking away.

-Do tell me then, good doctor.

-Well- Doctor Cornelius cleared his throat. - After you left came the Desert War.

-That is to say, the ten-year-long war with Calormen, milady.

-What happened?

-Your husband Rabadash, third Tisroc of that name, wreaked havoc when he couldn't find you, milady.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

-They never _won_? Did they?

-They set up a colony, your majesty. For seven years.

My insides squirmed. Narnia, a Calormene colony? There never was a more paradoxical notion. Followers of the Lion subdued under the rule of Tash worshippers. Calormenes forced to live amongst beings they feared and hated. Aslan's free creatures surrendering their liberty.

-And? - I prompted him.

-It was overthrown, your majesty; by the Princess Lavinie and her supporters, with the help of Archenland and Terebenthia.

A mother's heart, well hidden amidst the cares of a fourteen year old girl, beat rapidly at the mention of my daughter. Was that what parental pride felt like?

-And Hashereth? - I was almost afraid to ask.

-Hashereth, first Tisroc of that name, signed a peace treaty with his sister when he succeeded his father to the throne.

My daughter, Queen of Narnia. My son, Tisroc in Calormen? Tears should've run down a middle-aged woman's face, but they ran down mine.

-Hashereth the peacemaker, they called him. And Queen Lavinie is fondly remembered as the Faithful Queen.

-Her line was still in the throne when the Telmarines invaded.

One cannot have two hearts, I noticed. I could not be Susan Pevensie returning to boarding school and Queen Susan the Gentle mourning her children at the same time. There was too much confusion, too much pain. I could only be one.

-Thank you, Doctor. That was most kind of you.

I gave him leave to go and he returned to the How. I sat there for a long time, looking at the starless sky. The cold air insisted on bringing goose-bumps to my skin and I rubbed my arms attempting to warm them up.

Fifteen years worth of experiences and memories had to be locked up in the dustiest corner of my brain. The constant buzzing of contradicting thoughts, opinions and occurrences had to be stopped. One of my two personas had to be forgotten, and I was sensible enough to know which was the one that was required.

I bid Queen Susan the Gentle enjoy her last borrowed days in her borrowed kingdom. I bid her relish in the feel of a bow in her hands, savor the conversation of her mythological subjects and delight in the texture of her old medieval-cut dresses. I only hoped she'd get to hear a dryads' song before it was all left behind. It'd be quite heart-breaking if she didn't.

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><p><strong>Well, there we are. Last chapter. There'll be an epilogue next week.<strong>

**I hope this was as interesting an exploration into Susan's psyche and motives as I meant it.**

**If it wasn't, don't be afraid to tell me why :) **


	10. Epilogue

-Come on Su, you can't have forgotten. Not really! - Peter cried in tones of slight despair. He'd been trying to convince his sister to come to yet another gathering of the friends of Narnia. She'd not been interested in going to a single one.

His dark-haired sister fastened one of her pearl earrings before whirling around in an exasperated manner. There was fire in the normally indifferent green eyes. She made no lofty ridiculing remark about children's games and immature young people you insisted on playing them. Her whole face contorted as she shrieked:

-I don't want to remember, Peter! All right?

Her square-jawed brother backed away a couple steps, surprised at the outburst. Susan tightened her lips and appeared to be fighting back tears.

-Why? -Came the monosyllabic question in the firm impassible tones of the High King of Narnia.

-It's all very well for you, isn't it? – His sister spat at him, bitterly

-For you, the world of Narnia was the best dream. Silks, apples and knights; a great white castle overlooking the sea. Talking animals, friendly to no end, gold and silver and breathing trees. A beautiful kingdom, a beautiful reality. A land of splendor, light and prosperity.

-That's how you all think of the world of Narnia isn't it? Those are the memories you treasure in the brightest corners of your minds. Take them out every so often, admire them and re-live them.

Peter watched her silently throughout this sullenly delivered monologue, waiting to see where it would lead to.

-That's not what it is for me. - Susan said turning away from him, tears starting to ruin the effect of her perfectly ornamented eyelashes.

-For me, the world of Narnia echoes in bitterness and discontent. It means an unhappy marriage and a repressed existence. Its memories bring back the blows of a man of weak character and the cries of the children I'll never see again.

-Don't try and make me remember that, Peter Pevensie. - His sister warned him with the look she wore when she held a bow in her hands.

-Not when I've been saved. Not when I'm grateful every day for my deliverance.

She walked away with a swish of her green cocktail dress. The sound of the door slamming behind her brought Peter back from his stunned reverie. His eyes were wet in spite of himself.

He stood there thinking about his sister's words for a long time, keeping six of the friends of Narnia waiting. Keeping the Last King of Narnia waiting, though he did not know it.

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><p><strong>Well that's it. Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed and favorited (not a real word is it?)<strong>


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